


Reason Panders Will

by Celandine



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Community: hpvalensmut, Drama, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-13
Updated: 2007-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:18:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco's come to Grimmauld Place for a good reason: to teach Harry Occlumency. Reason doesn't have much to do with what happens after that. Slightly crackish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reason Panders Will

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siren_mage](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=siren_mage).



The werewolf did a double-take when he first saw me sitting next to Harry. Not that his reaction was unusual. I think every member of this Order of the Phoenix did likewise. But most of them then refused to look at me; Remus Lupin seemed unable to stop staring.

After the meeting I thought I'd escape by going down to the kitchen and making myself a cup of tea. Yes, I do know how to make tea without benefit of house-elf. It was one of the first things I learned after Snape and I left Hogwarts so precipitously. I was about to push open the kitchen door when I heard voices and decided to listen for a moment instead. Never pass up a chance to pick up information. You don't know when it might be useful.

"What's the Malfoy boy doing here?" That was Lupin. I remembered his voice from school.

"He turned up _inside_ the house one night, almost two weeks ago. We know Severus must have brought him; it's the only way he could have made it past the Unplottability charm, even though the Fidelius is no longer operative," came Kingsley Shacklebolt's rumble. "Alastor wanted to turn him over to the Ministry immediately."

"Naturally. What stopped him?"

"Young Malfoy insisted that he had to talk to Harry, alone. He even agreed to do it wandless. I don't think Harry's reported it all, but some was word of Voldemort's plans, things that don't involve the werewolves so you couldn't have known them, Remus," said Shacklebolt. "I imagine that there was a deal struck – safety for information."

There _was_ a deal struck, but it involved far more than Shacklebolt imagined. You see, I had come here for a reason. Several, in fact. Some connected to the war, some to personal loyalty, some to strategy. My father was committed to Voldemort; there was no chance that he could get away a second time with claiming he was under the Imperius curse. I, however, could still support the opposing side, which would mean that either way the Malfoys would get through. Snape hadn't needed to point that out to me when he was persuading me to come here.

I banged open the door as if I had just arrived and walked into the kitchen, merely nodding at the two men as I went to put the kettle on. Shacklebolt left, his boot heels thumping loudly on the scuffed wood. Lupin stayed, studying me.

"How do you find being here?"

"It's all right." I shrugged. It was more congenial than staying alone with Snape, that was certain. Order members came and went, but there were always a few in the house. Harry, Granger, and the Weasel most often, and sometimes the Weaselette or one of her parents, and nearly always my half-blood cousin Tonks or another Auror. I wondered sometimes if the Aurors stayed because I wasn't trusted. They had reason. Harry was the only person who knew the full truth... well, most of it. There were a few truths I wasn't prepared to share with him if I could help it, although if I did properly what I was here to do he might discover them regardless.

"Mm. I've never enjoyed having to live among those who distrust me," said Lupin, a wry twist to his lips. "I've certainly done enough of it, though."

"The werewolves?"

"They actually trust me more than most, since I'm one of them." I'd never noticed how gold his eyes were. Perhaps talking about the other werewolves gave them that gleam. "No, I mean most of my life. The Ministry is not... beneficent towards my kind."

"I suppose not." I'd never really thought about it, but werewolves are considered Dark creatures and it made sense. The kettle finally boiled and I made my tea in silence, Lupin still standing there, considering me.

"Was there something you wanted?" I kept my voice as calm as I could. He made me nervous, always had.

"Just to tell you to be careful of Harry." Before I could decide what he meant by that, Lupin continued, "He can be... erratic, sometimes." Now _that_ I already knew. "Whatever you've told him, obviously it was enough to keep him from continuing your ongoing conflict. But with his parents and godfather all dead, I feel a certain responsibility for his well-being; if you hurt him in any way, or get in the way of what he needs to do, you'll answer to me, sooner or later."

I stepped towards him, closer than I was comfortable with myself and apparently closer than he liked, for he stiffened. "I have no intention of hurting Harry. Or of letting him hurt me."

With that I picked up my tea and left him there, staring.

I didn't see Lupin again for several weeks. Working undercover among the werewolves meant that he could not often get away. I assumed there was some method used for passing his information back, or receiving instructions, but no one told me what it was. During those weeks I was busy myself, carrying out my own purpose in being here.

* * *

"Again."

Harry glared at me. "We've been practicing for two hours."

"You think that You-Know-Who has a time limit on his ability as a Legilimens?" I drawled the words, knowing that such a tone would infuriate him into continuing.

"I can't believe this," he muttered. "Learning Occlumency from Draco Malfoy. It's almost as bad as learning from Snape."

"But not quite," I said. "Again."

He took a deliberate breath and met my eyes, the barrier slamming down between us – almost. I knew the chinks in his mental armor well and twisted my own thoughts to follow his. By now I'd learned more than I wanted to know about Harry's childhood. Horrible. It confirmed everything my parents had ever said about Muggles. There were areas of Harry's memories that I didn't go into, however; my desire to see his feelings about the Weaselette, for instance, was nil. I suspected that was rather kinder than Snape would have been. He had trained _me_ as both Legilimens and Occlumens. It was just as necessary in my case, but I was a far better student than Harry, I have to say.

A push. He'd nearly blocked me out, and I was delighted although I wouldn't show it. The sooner Harry learned this, the better off we'd all be. He couldn't finish what he had to do until he could face Voldemort safely.

"Come on, Harry, you can do better than that," I said smugly. His specs were fogging up with the effort, and he snatched them off and wiped them on his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers to use the shirttail to rub them clean, flashing a bit of skin as he did so.

Putting his glasses back on he looked at me again, concentrating, and this time he managed to keep me out. In fact I felt his presence in my own thoughts and pulled my own barriers into place.

Not quite quickly enough. He gasped and turned his head. "No more today." His voice was thick.

I knew what he'd seen, of course. "Sorry." I said the word automatically. I wasn't ashamed; Snape had made me well-aware of the risk, though. If Potter found out I fancied him he probably wouldn't be willing to be trained any longer, and that could ruin more than one well-laid plan. Mine. Snape's. Harry's own.

"'S all right." Harry had hunched his shoulders. "Just... no more practice for now, okay? I need to think."

So did I, because if I'd bollocksed this up then I had to figure out what to do next. I didn't really worry that Harry would go back on his promise about protecting me from the Ministry, but if I wasn't able to help him prepare for his confrontation, then what was I going to do instead? I nodded, then said aloud, "I'll see you downstairs at dinner," because he wasn't looking in my direction.

It was still over an hour till dinner and I didn't much fancy wandering around the gloomy old house. I could go to my bedroom, where at least I'd be alone. Or there was the library, if Granger wasn't there poring over one of the tomes she was so fond of. I'd discovered that some Black ancestor had left a collection of pornography there, on one of the more inaccessible shelves. How it had been overlooked I didn't know, but I was quite happy to take advantage of it. I suspected, actually, that it _hadn't_ been overlooked; once or twice I'd thought that the books' order had been altered. Probably one of the other residents had found them – most likely Granger, although I _really_ didn't want to think about Granger reading them for the purpose intended. That was what I'd do, choose one of the books and then go have a comfortable wank in my room, before I started having to consider what to do next if Harry refused to practice Occlumency with me any longer.

I had already found a favorite volume by this time, quite old but with some excellent engravings that were apparently taken from classical illustrations. Most of the young men portrayed had dark hair and it was quite easy to imagine the addition of glasses and a scar. I tucked it under my arm and was turning to go when I heard a throat being cleared and jumped.

Remus Lupin was leaning against one of the shelves, eyebrows raised as his glance flickered to the book I held. "A bit of light reading?"

"You could say that." I was sure he couldn't read the title on the spine, not from that angle. "Something to pass the time until dinner, that's all."

"I see," he said. His gaze traveled from the book to my face, and then down again. I was wearing a pair of Muggle jeans, and it took serious self-control to not shift under his stare and make my burgeoning erection more obvious than it doubtless already was. "Enjoy your... reading."

My cheeks were warm as I left. Surely I wasn't even _considering_ the idea that Lupin might find me attractive. Not a man old enough to be my father. My former professor. Not to mention a werewolf. I wasn't sure which of those things was most disturbing. But there was something about the twist of his lips, and the grey in his hair did make him look distinguished...

Shutting the door of my room firmly behind me and locking it with a quick charm for good measure, I flung myself down on the bed and flipped the book open at random. There, a well-built young man with hair as tousled as Harry's so often was. Delicious. The only problem was that this picture featured three men, and my overheated brain was insisting on putting Lupin's face onto another of them.

Oh, well, did it really matter who I fantasized about during a wank? I drew my palm firmly over my cock, stroking it through the heavy fabric, then stopped to undo the zip and pull the jeans off altogether. I'd been in too much of a hurry to bother, once, and found out the hard way – hah – that Muggle zippers could pull hair and pinch skin quite painfully.

Wizarding pornography is much better than the Muggle kind, I'll have you know. I'd picked up one of those by accident once and was appalled to discover that the pictures don't move at all. In this book, the boy who looked rather like Harry gave me a saucy wink as a second boy's mouth closed around his prick.

The older man – _not_ Lupin, I reminded myself, for one thing he was clean-shaven – toyed with not-Harry's nipples, his own cock swelling, though it was difficult to see pressed against not-Harry's arse. I stroked myself in time to the bobbing of the other boy's head on not-Harry's prick, imagining I was doing the same to Harry. His skin would be soft over that heated length, maybe a whiff of almond from the soap Harry used but mostly smelling of that musky Harry-scent that I caught each time I sat next to him. He'd put his hand on my head, just like the boy in the picture was doing, and thrust into my mouth as if he couldn't help himself, groaning my name.

I was using both hands now, one wrapped around my cock and the other sliding down to pull at my balls and press behind them, reaching to brush over my hole. Merlin, that was good. I gasped and looked at the picture again.

Now not-Harry was kneeling in front of the boy who'd sucked him off and was returning the favor while the boy leaned over him, hands braced against the sketched wall. Behind, the older man – not Lupin, not-Lupin – shoved his prick slowly into not-my arse, to the evident pleasure of both. I whispered a quick lubricating spell and let my finger sink into my own arse, pushing, twisting, my other hand flying over my cock until I came, a gout of slippery spunk landing on the edge of the picture where not-me was being pounded, faster and faster until not-Lupin held still and shuddered in orgasm, not-Harry taking not-my prick down his throat, and finally not-me sagged forward in spent delight.

See? One of the best wanks I ever had, and I wasn't thinking of Lupin at all. I pulled my finger out and wondered how it would feel to have someone's cock there. I never had, not yet. While I'd been quite sure I was gay since I was fourteen, Hogwarts wasn't exactly a place conducive to sexual experimentation, not with the tattletale ghosts round every corner. My experiences had been mostly limited to hand jobs and frottage, with a couple of very hurried blow jobs.

That was one downside to fancying Harry. He _might_ be amenable to the idea, if he got used to it – anyone with half an eye could see that the Weaselette had moved on, or rather back, to Longbottom of all people. But if Harry decided that a bit of shagging with yours truly might be worth a go, well, he almost certainly had less practice with blokes than I did. Lupin, on the other hand, looked like he would know exactly what he was doing.

 _No._ I cast a hasty _Tergeo_ on the book and slammed it shut before cleaning myself up and starting to pull my jeans on again. I was _not_ going to think about shagging the werewolf. Not even if he looked at me with those golden eyes and made those double-edged remarks in a hoarse but surprisingly sexy voice. No. Not sexy. Just rough. I supposed that it was howling as a wolf once a month that had damaged it. He _was_ a werewolf, I reminded myself. And far too old. I'd just ignore him and everything would be fine.

I glanced at the clock. Nearly six; time to go down for dinner. Should I sit to Harry's left as usual, or would that bother him after what he'd seen in my mind earlier? I didn't want to make him so uncomfortable that he'd refuse to keep learning Occlumency from me. If nothing else Snape would flay me alive, first verbally, then literally. Using a dull knife, I was sure. Not to mention that my life would be in danger if Harry didn't learn and Voldemort defeated him. My father would do his best to save me – he might even succeed – but the Dark Lord is insane, everyone knows that, and "unpredictable" is a mild way of describing him.

Harry wasn't yet in the dining room when I got there, so I sat where I always did. Let him make the choice. I had closed my eyes for a minute, running through the things that Snape had taught me, when a draught of air told me that someone had taken the chair to my left, opposite from where Harry generally sat.

"Hello again, Draco," Lupin said. "Smells like Molly has made one of her wonderful stews, doesn't it?"

Opening my eyes, I looked over at him. "Yes." His knee was next to mine, not touching, nothing so overt, but I could feel the heat of him across the scant gap of air and through my jeans. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

I knew I sounded surly and I had no right to ask anyhow, but Lupin only smiled and said, "There's a meeting tonight and I was able to get away earlier than often, so I came for dinner as well. Ah. Harry." He looked beyond me and reached out his hand. Harry leaned across and grabbed Lupin's forearm.

"Remus. I'm glad you're here." His breath blew over my ear and I shivered as he sat down next to me. "Do you think you'll have a few minutes to talk, later?"

"I should do. The meeting's not till eight," said Lupin. "What did you need to talk about?"

"I'd, er, I'd rather wait," Harry said. He sounded uncomfortable and I had a strong impression that it was me that he was planning to discuss with Lupin. Perhaps the Occlumency lessons. Most of the Order didn't know that Harry was studying the technique, as far as I was aware, but if Lupin stood in the place of a parent or uncle or whatever to Harry, maybe Harry had told him.

"Whatever you want." Lupin sniffed the air. "I'm going to go help Molly bring the food in. Save my seat?"

He seemed to be talking to me now, not Harry, so I answered, "All right." There really wasn't anything else I could have said, and besides, it would hardly be difficult. No one ever wanted to sit by me except Harry. I sneaked a look at him now and saw that he was chewing on his lip, looking nervous.

"Harry," I started, intending to tell him that he oughtn't to worry about what he'd seen in my mind, that I was well aware of the difference between fantasy and reality, but Granger and the Weasel and the Weaselette clattered in at that moment, the Weasel sitting on Harry's right and the two girls across the table, and they all began to talk about one of the older Weasley brothers, which one I wasn't sure and couldn't be bothered to figure out. So I shut my eyes once more and thought about how I might convince Harry that he needed to keep on with the Occlumency lessons. He wasn't anywhere near being able to block out Voldemort yet.

Maybe a little bit of insult? Hint that he was afraid to do something, and Harry would leap to prove that idea wrong. It had worked back in our very first year at Hogwarts and nothing much had changed since. Not a technique I could try in public, of course, but if I simply went to his room tomorrow at our usual time and offered to stop the lessons if he found them too distressing, Galleons to Knuts he'd insist on continuing.

I heard the thump of serving dishes being put down and the scrape of chairs being pulled back. Opening my eyes I saw that Lupin had returned to the seat beside mine.

"Thank you for saving my place," he said gravely, as if I had actually done anything.

I inclined my head and reached for the tureen of stew. Molly Weasley _was_ an excellent cook, I had to admit that. Perhaps not quite as good as the house-elves we had at home, but easily on a par with those at Hogwarts. Though it seemed degrading for her to spend her time on a house-elf's job, I was quite happy to eat the results.

This time Lupin's knee bumped mine as he pulled his chair closer to the table, and he didn't move it away. The warmth – how _could_ he be so hot? – seemed to travel up my leg and settle in my cock as we ate. As usual I spoke very little during the meal; stuck in Grimmauld Place all day, I never had news, and I didn't imagine that anyone present would be keen on making casual conversation with someone they still thought of as the next thing to a Death Eater. Harry trusted me, and I had the odd feeling that Granger might... and maybe, just maybe, Lupin did too, despite his warning the first time I'd seen him here.

When the meal was over, I wanted to try to listen in on Harry's conversation with Lupin, but the Weaselette reminded me that it was our turn to clear up. I gritted my teeth and did my half of the chore as quickly as possible, bringing all the dishes back into the kitchen, wrapping up the food left over, and finally wiping down the counters, while she washed and then put away the pots and dishes. Neither of us spoke; no more than her brother had she ever accepted that I might have had legitimate reasons to do what I had done, first supporting Voldemort as my parents had and then changing sides.

I suspected that Harry and Lupin would be talking in Harry's room. Granger tended to occupy the library after dinner, and the other members of the Order were beginning to arrive and mill about the rest of the ground floor. The trouble was, there was no good place from which I might overhear that conversation. The hallway was far too public, and it would be too risky to go into the bedroom next to Harry's. If the Weasel caught me, I'd never hear the end of it. If only Harry's room weren't at the end of the hall... but perhaps I could try the room above his? That one was supposed to be used by other Weasley brothers, but none of them were here tonight. It should be safe.

No one was in the second-floor hallway, and I ducked into the room without being seen, lying down and pressing my ear to the floor. I doubted Harry would have thought to cast any kind of silencing charm, not here, but I knew that there were protective spells on his room that would warn him if I tried to use magic to overhear. The Muggle method would have to do.

"...sure what to do," I heard Harry's voice, muffled by the floorboards.

"You might..."

That was Lupin, but I was missing most of what he said. I bit back an oath and held my breath, wishing I could stop the pounding of my heart as easily.

"...necessary. Snape couldn't."

"Wouldn't," Lupin said.

"So Draco's the only one. But..."

Harry kept speaking, but I couldn't hear. He must have lowered his voice. I listened harder, hoping that he would raise it again, or that perhaps Lupin's replies might tell me what was of such great importance.

"I don't doubt you're right, Harry," I heard after several moments of mumbling. A cough. "But I think he..."

I ground my teeth together as now Lupin became nearly inaudible as well. _So_ unfair. I listened a bit longer, but the conversation continued to be too muffled for me to hear more than the occasional word, no good at all. At last it was quiet. I heard the thump of Harry's door closing, and knew that Lupin, at least, had gone, and very likely Harry as well. It must be nearly time for the meeting of the Order, and I ought to be present. If I weren't, there would be even greater suspicion of me than was already the case, and that would be... tedious.

With a sigh I stood and cracked the door to the room to make certain no one else was about. The corridor was empty. I hurried downstairs and managed not to be the last person to arrive. The chair next to Harry where I generally sat had been occupied, though, and I had to take a place between one of the Weasley twins, which one I wasn't sure, and Lupin. The alternative was to sit between the Weasel himself and Alastor Moody, and _that_ would have made for a miserable evening indeed.

Lupin's left hand rested on the tabletop, and he was rubbing his thumb along his index finger. I tried not to watch, to concentrate on the reports that were being made, but the movement was a slow and gentle stroke, and my imagination went back to the book I'd been looking at, not-Lupin stroking not-Harry's nipples with his thumb in the same kind of movement. I wondered how it would feel to have Lupin's hand on my own skin, perhaps stroking along the crease between hip and thigh. Then I glanced over at Harry, who seemed to be equally fascinated by Lupin's thumb. I caught that green gaze, and he looked away, flushing. No one else seemed to notice, not even Fred, or was it George, next to me.

The meeting seemed to drag on forever. Harry merely shook his head when he was asked if he had anything new to report. I had nothing to say either; I never did. I just kept watching Lupin's fingers, with occasional checks to see if Harry was doing the same.

"Draco." Lupin's rasping growl brought me out of my half-trance. Everyone was pushing back their chairs, standing, talking about getting tea.

"What?" It came out too abruptly but for a moment I'd thought that I'd failed to answer a question, that everyone knew I hadn't been paying attention, and I couldn't afford to alienate the Order members. Harry's support couldn't protect me forever.

"We need to talk."

I looked for Harry, but didn't see him. "About what?"

He touched my wrist, and again I noticed how warm he was. My hands are always cold, even in summer, and in early February in the drafty old Black house half the time I couldn't feel my fingers.

"Come on."

Well, I was sure that Lupin wasn't going to take me off somewhere and hex me, at any rate. Even if he distrusted me, or thought that I'd hurt Harry somehow, that wasn't how either he or the Order worked. Despite his half-threat of a few weeks before, Lupin would give me a chance to explain. Gryffindors. Irritating, but predictable in their own way.

I followed him down past the kitchen – voices indicated that tea preparations were well underway – and into a small room that still contained a nineteenth-century mangle and washing tub. I imagined that old Mrs. Black had probably had her house-elves use them right up until her death. Lupin shut the door behind us and leaned against it, a ghost of a smile on his lips, and suddenly I felt a good deal less confident.

"Harry's told me that you're teaching him Occlumency."

"Yes." There was no point in denying it.

"He said that he managed to fight you off, today. That he saw something you didn't want him to see."

Shrugging, I said, "I didn't get my own barriers in place quickly enough, that's all. My fault, not his."

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "I gather that he ended your lesson when that happened?"

"He did." I took a breath and added carefully, "I just hope that he doesn't mean to end his lessons altogether. It's a technique he has to master if he's to have any chance against You-Know-Who. If you can persuade him that it won't happen again..."

"No point," he cut me off.

"Oh." My fists clenched involuntarily.

He was looking at me, waiting. I could just catch the scent of him, a warm smell, like toast and tea and sandalwood soap. I forced my mind away from that and crossed my arms, casually shifting my weight, turning slightly away from him.

"I mean, the reason why I'm here is to teach him. Professor Snape taught me so that I could teach Harry. That's why I came." I was starting to babble.

Lupin cocked his head. "To teach Harry Occlumency. Just that."

"Well, yes, of course."

"Nothing else?" He stepped nearer. The dim light in the room caught on the silver hairs scattered among the brown. They suited him, somehow. "I believe you're here for Harry," he said. "But I wondered."

"Wondered what?"

"If you might have... other interests." His gaze flickered downward, then back to my face, which I could feel heating.

He was still just far enough away that he couldn't touch me without moving again, and that meant that I couldn't touch him, either. Which was a good thing, because my brain wasn't keeping up with my prick. I swallowed. "I might."

"Ah." His eyes gleamed amber. I was reminded uncomfortably that once a month he was a wolf. "That's what I thought."

If he had stayed there only a few minutes more, I'm not sure what would have happened, but all of a sudden he turned back to the door and opened it, saying over his shoulder, "I have to leave, but I would be here again within a week. Talk to Harry. Tonight. He has something to say to you."

And with that Lupin was gone, leaving me leaning against the ancient mangle, my prick more than a little hard, and suspecting I knew what Harry wanted to talk about. It almost had to be what he'd seen when he'd slipped past my barriers, but he could be intending anything from withdrawing his protection – which would mean Moody would probably haul me before the Wizengamot before noon tomorrow – to saying that he had similar feelings towards me. Hah. That was unlikely. But I didn't have much choice but to go find out.

I imagined I could still smell Lupin's skin as I reached for the doorknob. Troubling. I'd been interested in Harry for ages; obsessed with him, if I were being honest about it. Now all of a sudden I was thinking about Lupin, too, and he was old enough to be my father; but I couldn't be mistaken that he had, very discreetly, let me know that he fancied me as well. I swallowed. If I had the opportunity, would I take it? He'd practically said that I had a week to think it over, before he returned, and it had been an awfully long time since I'd had a chance for anything except a private wank. The last time... I tried to think. Doxy's drawers, had it been nearly two years?

Well. No one should have to go without for so long. It wasn't as if Lupin were going to want anything more than a shag. He couldn't possibly. But I'd think about it a bit more before I made up my mind. In the meantime...

Harry was still in the room where the Order had met, half-sitting on the table and talking with the Weasel and Granger, a cup of tea cooling beside him. I thought about fetching myself a cup, perhaps bringing Harry a fresh one too, but I couldn't stomach the idea of putting three sugars into a cup of tea that was half milk to start with, not even to give it to Harry.

The other two had their backs to me, but Harry saw me enter the room. His eyes caught mine and he shook his head, very slightly, then flickered his gaze upward, in the direction of his room. Neither of his friends seemed to notice, so I nodded and backed away.

Since I'd been teaching him there, I knew the spell that would let me into his room. I didn't know how long he would be. Sitting in my usual chair, I tried to relax and think of nothing, especially not the fact that I was still turned on by my conversation with Lupin.

"Draco." Harry's voice roused me. "Wake up."

I wanted to protest that I hadn't been asleep, but it was too obvious that I had dozed off to make the denial credible. "Yeah." I scrubbed my hand over my face. "Lupin said you wanted to talk to me, tonight. So what's it about?"

He dropped into the other chair, and his eyes slid away from mine. "Don't you know?"

"Harry, I'm not interested in playing Twenty Questions with you." There were plenty of things I'd like to do with him, but that wasn't one of them. "If you don't want to talk after all, I'm going to go to my own room."

"I wanted to apologize."

My mouth nearly dropped open. "For what?" I managed to say. He saw into my fantasies about him, which since I was teaching him Occlumency I ought to have been able to keep secure, and _he_ was apologizing to _me_?

"For letting you think something that wasn't true." Harry said the words rapidly, his fingers digging into the fabric of his overlarge Muggle trousers. "What I saw today, during our lesson... it didn't bother me, not the way you supposed."

"It didn't bother you," I repeated. "All right, that's good. Does that mean you're not going to sack me as your teacher?"

"No, I'm not." He was pulling at a thread in the seam now.

"You're going to ruin those trousers if you keep on with that."

"Oh."

"Was that all?"

"Er. It, er, more than didn't bother me. I mean... it bothered me that I didn't realize sooner how you felt, but it doesn't bother me that you feel like that. Because I do too."

If I wasn't completely misled by the confused way he'd put it, Harry... felt the same way towards me. I leaned forward and asked, "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Why?" Exasperation filled in his voice. " _You_ never said anything, either. What would you expect me to do, fall on you when you first showed up here and declare my undying love, or even say, 'Malfoy, fancy a shag?' Hardly. You sit by me all the time, but it always seems like you're doing it because either you dislike everyone else around even more than you dislike me, or because you're afraid of them." His lips quirked. "With reason, in at least a couple of cases. Anyhow, you haven't exactly made it easy to tell how you felt, and based on past history, you were more likely to sneer than cheer if you found out how _I_ felt."

He did have a point. The explanation was moderately coherent, too; another point in his favor. As was the fact that his picking at his trousers had managed to undo a couple of inches of the seam and expose a flash of thigh. I was out of my chair and straddling him faster than Professor Binns could put a class to sleep.

"Does this seem like sneering?" I took his hand and guided it to my prick, which leaped at the touch even through layers of fabric.

"...no," he gasped, as I started to unbutton him, slipping my fingers past elastic and cotton to reach hot damp skin. "Oh..."

Though I was just as eager as Harry sounded, taking thirty seconds to move from chair to bed seemed well worth it. We tumbled onto the mattress together, tearing at each other's clothes, not bothering to remove them, just shoving trousers down, pulling aside shirts. Harry took his glasses off and tossed them at the nightstand. With our pricks rubbing together I brought my lips to his for the first time, catching them parted and sucking on his lower lip. He reciprocated with enthusiasm, showing a surprising talent for snogging in fact, but just then I didn't wonder with whom he had had so much practice. His tongue swept over mine and then darted into my mouth, finding every sensitive spot as if he knew them already, the sensation almost distracting me from what was going on down below.

I heard a throaty groan and wasn't sure if it was Harry or I who had made it; perhaps we both had. I know it was Harry who whispered, when we broke apart for a breath, "So good... want to taste you everywhere," and slid down to suck first at the hollow of my neck, then along my breastbone down to my navel. He licked it and I squirmed, ticklish, pushing my prick against him to remind him that he hadn't tasted there yet, and he squinted up at me and smiled as he took it into his mouth.

He wasn't as talented at sucking cock as he was at kissing but I really didn't care, because I had imagined this moment so many times that to have it actually _happening_ very nearly made me come right then. Harry hummed, seeming to find as much pleasure in sucking me as I did, his eyes on mine, his hips pumping against the mattress, his tongue tracing around the head of my prick and into the slit as I gasped and reached for him, brushing his hair back to see his face more clearly. My bollocks tightened when he touched them, fondling the loose skin, and when he stroked behind them and down, nudging against my hole, I cried out his name and exploded into his mouth. He stayed on me, swallowing, and then lapped me clean, still watching my face.

"Was... that all right?" Uncertainty threaded his tone.

"More than all right," I told him. "Come here."

Harry wriggled up to where we could kiss again, salty-bitter; more importantly I could reach his prick. He was rock hard and trembling; frotting against the bed hadn't finished him off. Half of me wanted that hot length in my virgin arse, but the other half knew that he couldn't possibly last long, that he probably had never fucked another boy and the sheer excitement of the unknown would make him come before he was halfway inside, so instead I closed my hand around him and wanked him the way I would myself, hard and fast with a bit of a twist at the end of the stroke. He whimpered and pushed against me, his teeth sinking into my shoulder when he came.

I brought my hand up to my face and tasted the wetness, so much like my own and yet distinctly different. Harry watched. I offered it to him, and at first he drew back, shaking his head, but then changed his mind and took a tentative lick.

"Hadn't you ever tasted your own come before?" That surprised me, since he'd shown no reluctance to swallow mine.

"No." He brought his own hand and held mine to his mouth so that he could catch every drop.

I wasn't quite sure what to do. If I stayed, slept here in Harry's bed, someone was bound to realize what had happened between us, and I was not ready for that – nor did I think Harry was. He finished with my hand and put his arm around me, breathing warmly against my neck. It felt... comfortable. We held each other for a while, and I felt Harry's heart beating in syncopation against my own.

"'m glad Remus told me," he mumbled into my shoulder.

"Told you what?"

"To do this."

"Wait a minute," I said. "Lupin _told_ you to have sex with me?" Suddenly I was angry.

"Yes. No, stop," Harry said as I pulled away and sat up, pulling my shirt back into place and starting to button it with numb fingers. "Not like what you're thinking. He said that if I'd been fancying you for so long, now that I found out you felt the same way, I'd be a right idiot not to do something about it, that's all. Though he seemed, I don't know, a little bothered. I'm not sure why, I know that he and Sirius were lovers once so I wouldn't think he'd care if I prefer blokes too."

I wanted to say that Lupin might be bothered because he fancied me also; I was virtually certain of that. And it felt more flattering than disturbing, which in itself ought to have disturbed me. Because it was Harry that I wanted, wasn't it?

Harry was looking at me, a pleading expression on his face as I continued to dress. "I'm sorry I said it that way. I _wanted_ to be with you tonight, I just... I was nervous, and Remus convinced me I shouldn't be. That's all."

"Is that all he said?"

"Well... he said he wasn't surprised that you felt that way." Harry's cheeks were red, and he started fumbling with his own clothes, reaching for his glasses and shoving them onto his nose. "I guess I was pretty unobservant not to realize it for myself."

"I didn't realize you fancied me," I pointed out. "Maybe we're both rather... oblivious."

"So worried about giving something away that we don't notice what's in front of us," said Harry. "Yeah. Maybe that's why Remus was able to; he knew that I knew about him and Sirius, so he didn't need to..." His voice trailed off. "But then... he must have been watching me. And you, too." His eyes were wide, confusion clearly showing.

"He's been watching _me_ , I know that." I took a deep breath. "I wouldn't say that he's made a pass at me, but his interest was pretty clear."

"I don't understand," Harry said, shaking his head. "Why would Remus tell me to go after you, then?"

"Because he wants you to be happy?" I thought about it for another minute. "Unless he... no."

"What?"

"He could want both of us," I said reluctantly. It was the best explanation I could think of but I worried that it would disconcert Harry, who seemed to consider Remus as a father figure.

"Remus?" Harry's voice cracked. "Want _both_ of us?"

I shrugged. "I'm almost certain he would shag me if I said yes. How about you?"

Harry bit his lip. I could almost see his thoughts, even without Legilimency. "I think... you're right. God. I never... never considered that before."

We were both dressed again now, and sitting cross-legged on the bed. The room still smelled of sex. "Hadn't you?"

"No, I hadn't." The tone was sharp but his expression was almost wistful.

"I had," I said, thinking of the book I'd wanked to only that afternoon. It was probably a bad idea to say so, but I couldn't seem to help myself.

"You mean, having sex with Remus?"

"With both of you," I admitted. "Together."

"Oh." Harry drew in a breath. "I see."

"Haven't you ever thought about anything like that? I mean, fantasized about being with two other blokes, not necessarily with Lupin or anything."

He turned bright red again but didn't answer.

It was too late to try to figure all this out tonight. "Look, I'd better go back to my own room. Practice again tomorrow?"

"Occlumency? Yeah. Same time as usual – no, wait. We'd better make it the morning tomorrow, I have something I have to do with Ron and Hermione in the afternoon. Ten o'clock all right?"

Nodding, I stood up. It felt awkward to do anything but leave, so that's what I did. I slept fitfully that night, my head spinning with dreams of having sex with Harry, who kept changing into Lupin and then back again.

We worked hard the next morning, and Harry was able to Occlude me most of the time. I still didn't try to push into any memories that might tell me how he really felt, although one of these days I would have to. Those were likely to be the most vulnerable spots, and he needed to be prepared. Voldemort wouldn't be nearly so nice as I was.

"I'll be back tonight," Harry said at the end of the practice session. "Um. Will you be here?"

"I never go anywhere," I reminded him. "If I left the house, either You-Know-Who's goons would get me, or the Ministry's would. I don't know which would be worse."

"Sorry. I meant... do you want to come here, to my room, tonight?" He looked eager and shy all at once. "Or could I come to yours?"

"You come to mine," I said. It made more sense, really. He might be back late, and I hardly wanted to either hang about in Harry's room alone or keep coming back to it to see if he'd returned yet.

"All right." He seemed to want to say something more, but didn't.

"Good luck with whatever it is," I made myself say, envious that he was able to go somewhere else. Anywhere.

"Thanks." He flashed a quick grin as he headed down the stairs. I could hear him talking to Granger and the Weasel in the front hallway, and then the sound of the door closing just as the voice of old Mrs. Black rose in her usual litany of complaint.

The only person around that day was Kingsley Shacklebolt, and I scarcely wanted to spend time with him. I made myself a cheese sandwich with pickle for lunch, then took a cup of tea into the library and read a book on Arithmancy. I'd rather enjoyed the subject at Hogwarts and regretted that I'd not had the chance to take my N.E.W.T. in it.

Molly Weasley turned up with a shepherd's pie for dinner, and brought the Weaselette with her. She seemed no more flustered than usual, so I concluded that whatever the errand was, either it wasn't dangerous or else Harry hadn't told any of the adults just what they were doing. Either seemed possible. I excused myself as soon as I could politely do so, though, and went back up to my room to wait for Harry. I supposed that if he came home _very_ late, he wouldn't turn up, but he hadn't suggested that would happen.

I thought about having a quick wank to my favorite book, which I hadn't yet taken back downstairs, but decided that it wouldn't be worth it. If Harry returned and wanted to shag and I had just come, well, too embarrassing. Even a nineteen-year-old needs a little time to recover, thank you very much.

Instead I read a bit more of the Arithmancy, but mostly I thought about Harry, and about Lupin, and what could possibly happen. I'd half-said to Lupin that I was interested, but that had been before I'd known for sure that Harry was keen on me as well. Had Harry's embarrassment when I asked if he'd thought about threesomes indicated that he never had, or that he had but didn't want to talk about it? I didn't think I'd want to be in a _relationship_ with the werewolf, but I _was_ rather curious about what he might be like in bed. At his age I assumed he would have a fair amount of experience, especially given what Harry had said about Lupin and Sirius Black having been together. What was I thinking, anyhow – I'd never even had full-on sex with _one_ person, yet, though that seemed likely to change very soon.

At a little before nine there was a tap on my door.

"Come in."

Harry's head appeared. "Are you alone?"

"Of course I'm alone." What did he think, I was going to have someone else in there with me? No one else even talked to me beyond everyday necessities like "pass the butter." "How was your day out? Did you finish whatever it was you went to do?" I tried not to show my annoyance that I had no idea what that was. After all, hardly anyone knew he was studying Occlumency with me. All right, and a bit more than that now.

"We didn't finish, but we made some progress." He gave me a half-smile. "I'd tell you about it, but I can't. Even most of the Order doesn't know, but it's necessary... and for what it's worth, the Occlumency you're teaching me is going to be a big help."

I nodded acceptance, there being no other reasonable response. Actually I was impressed that Harry had realized that I would not only be curious but resentful of being left out.

"But I don't really want to think about any of that right now." Harry came and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Can I guess what you _do_ want to do?"

"Probably." He crawled up toward me. I pulled his glasses off, awkwardly, catching them on one ear for a moment. He blinked at me and grinned as I set them aside. "Definitely."

Though neither of us had done it before and it took a certain amount of embarrassed fumbling, this time I had him inside me, breathing my name like a prayer as he moved, and I watched his face contort with pleasure. He brought me to my own orgasm with his hand, after, in a flurry of frantic kissing.

"Were you serious when you said you'd thought about me and Remus, having us both?" he asked afterward, running his fingers over my chest and stomach, tracing the fine trail of hair downward.

"It was a fantasy; I didn't expect I'd ever have sex with you, even. But yes, I was serious." I rolled over to face him. "Why?"

"He'll be here on Monday, if he can get away from the pack," Harry said.

"Yes, he told me he'd be back in about a week." I frowned. "Why does it matter that he'll be here on Monday?"

"Don't you know what date Monday is?"

I shook my head. I hardly ever looked at the _Daily Prophet_ and I'd quite lost track of the date.

"The fourteenth. Valentine's Day." Harry raised an eyebrow. "I was thinking about it today, while... while I was out, and, well..."

"You want to invite Lupin to join us," I said carefully, unbelievingly.

"Yeah. Since he finally managed to convince Tonks that he wasn't the right one for her, he hasn't had anyone... and, well, yeah." Harry sighed. "Maybe it's a stupid idea. I haven't had a lot of experience with any of this." He stole a quick glance at me; I'm sure he meant it to be unseen, but even without his glasses he tended to turn his head rather than just his eyes.

"Neither do I, you know. Just maybe a little more than you have. You don't think it would bother you?"

Harry shook his head. "No. That's what I was thinking about today. I'm not looking for true love right now, and neither are you... I don't think. Are you?"

"Hardly." I laughed. "So you're saying that you're up for whatever seems fun, now that you've realized what you enjoy?"

"Pretty much. Are you willing?"

"Yes." A pleasurable shiver went through me, remembering the way that it had felt when Lupin touched me, how hot he was. "Did you have any ideas for how to convey this grand scheme to Lupin?"

He grinned. "I thought I'd let you do it. He's been flirting with you more obviously than with me, from what you've said. So I thought you could let him catch you alone someplace, and suggest coming up here to your room... and I'd already be here."

"Naked, I assume."

"Of course." The grin widened into a smirk. "I don't think he could mistake the offer then, do you?"

"I wouldn't think so, no," I agreed. "All right. I'll do it."

The following few days passed quickly; we managed to at least fool around every day, though neither of us wanted to be obvious about our new understanding. We didn't take time away from the Occlumency lessons, which was unacceptable, so we didn't get much sleep.

On Monday Harry was nervous, pacing around his room when I went there for the usual practice.

"What if Remus says no? What if we were both wrong about what he meant?"

"Unless he's not gay after all and lied to you about Sirius – both of which seem unlikely to me, if you want to know – I doubt he's going to refuse us. Sit down, for Merlin's sake. I'm the one who has to talk to him, you just have to wait in my room. If he says no you needn't worry about it, you won't see him at all."

"I know." He took a deep breath. "Right. I do want to do this for him."

"And for yourself," I murmured.

"Yeah, well, that goes without saying. But he won't be here till probably four o'clock; there was a message last night. So we'd better get down to work."

By now I was pressing Harry harder, trying to break into his more private thoughts. Yes, some of that was to satisfy my own curiosity – want to make something of it? But I hadn't been able to discover quite what he thought of either myself or Lupin yet, though rather to his chagrin I'd learned that he no longer thought about the Weaselette. The fact that he'd been able to keep me out when it came to his thoughts of me was heartening to me as his teacher, even if it was frustrating in other ways.

"You're nearly ready," I told him when we paused. "Another few days, I think. Although it would be a good idea to have someone besides me work with you once or twice on it; every Legilimens has his own tricks, and while you're blocking me quite reliably, that doesn't mean you've mastered every aspect of Occlumency." I frowned. "I wish we could get Professor Snape here."

"No," said Harry.

"I know he wasn't able to teach you the basics himself," I said, holding on to my patience. "He told me a little bit about it. But that's exactly why he'd be the best one to practice against now. I doubt he'd be able to come, though, it would be too dangerous. Do you trust anyone in the Order to help you with this, anyone who _could_ help? There aren't a lot of people who have any ability or training at Legilimency, and you need someone skilled to push you to do your best."

"I'll think about it." Harry ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it so that it became even messier than usual, then shoved his glasses up his nose from where they'd slipped. He looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed, and ought to be back in it. "It's half past three, Remus should be here soon."

"Do you want to go up to my room, then? I thought I'd wait for him in the library, it seems most likely he'd go there. I left that book I showed you on the nightstand, with a couple of pages marked that I believe you'll like," I said, and smirked. "A way to occupy your time while you wait, and all that, especially in case Lupin is late."

"Splendid idea." He opened the door. "See you in a bit."

I went down to the library and curled up in one of the big leather chairs. I considered reading one of the other books from that shelf of pornographic literature, but decided that it was too likely that someone other than Lupin might wander in. Granger, for instance. So it was Arithmancy once again, which at least had the virtue of keeping my mind engaged.

The clock struck four and I hadn't heard Lupin arrive – no thump in the Floo in the next room, no crack of Apparation, no slam of the front door. Well, perhaps he was having a difficult time getting away from the werewolf pack unsuspected. I stood up and stretched and went to make tea.

It was as I was pouring the boiling water over the leaves that I realized Lupin was there, standing behind me, and I still hadn't heard a thing. I put the kettle down and turned around, leaning back against the counter. "Lupin."

"Draco." He was only a couple of feet away; if I had stepped back without looking, I would have bumped into him. I supposed that was his intention... to be able to touch me and have it look accidental. I'd thwarted that, but he smiled anyway, his golden eyes searching my face. "Have you given any further thought to what we discussed last week?"

"About my... other interests? You might say so." I rested my elbows on the counter and moved my feet a few inches further apart. "Perhaps we should talk about it at greater length?" I let my gaze drift downward from his face. Like most of the older wizards, he wore robes, and I wondered whether he wore anything underneath them. I'd find out soon. "Maybe in my room?"

"Don't you want your tea first?"

"Not particularly." I ran my tongue over my upper lip and saw his eyes follow the movement. "Shall we?"

Lupin didn't speak or touch me on the way, not until we were at the door of my room. Then he put his hand over mine, stopping me from turning the knob, and said, "Are you certain?"

If I hadn't been, the rush that swept through me from the heat of his skin would have made me so. I slid my fingers through his to bring his hand to my mouth, and licked from wrist to palm. "Yes. And I have something for you that I think you'll like." I opened the door with my other hand and tugged him inside.

Harry had made some preparations that I hadn't anticipated. For one thing, he'd bespelled the bed to twice its usual size – sensible, to be sure, just unexpected. He'd also lit clusters of candles here and there rather than the ugly lamp I'd been given to use. Last but far from least, he was sprawled on the bed, naked as he'd said he would be, with scarlet ribbons wrapped around each wrist and ankle, leading to the bedposts. One more ribbon was tied in a jaunty bow around his erect prick.

I felt Lupin freeze. "Harry? What...?"

Pink flushed Harry's cheeks. "Happy Valentine's Day, Remus."

Quickly I made sure the door was closed behind us and put a locking charm on it, and then cast a soundproofing spell for good measure. No boy spent six years at Hogwarts without plenty of practice in the latter.

"We thought you might appreciate having your mind taken off things," I said, hiding my own surprise at Harry's inventiveness. "If we guessed wrong about what you would like, I hope you're not angry?"

Lupin gave an incredulous chuckle. "No, I'm not angry. Astonished." He moved away from me, toward the bed, and put a finger on Harry's wrist. "What made you think of this?"

Harry turned even redder, but his prick seemed to enlarge, if that was possible. "Something Sirius said once," he muttered. He looked at me beseechingly. I was still dressed, and so was Lupin, and I was sure that he wanted me not to leave him alone in his nakedness.

"If you like your present, Lu... Remus," I corrected myself – if Harry called him Remus, I could, and it sounded ridiculous to call the man by his surname when I hoped to have his cock up my arse or vice versa within a few minutes, "then I think there's some unwrapping that needs to be done." I started to undo the buttons of his robes.

He was wearing very old-fashioned underthings, the sort that my grandfather Abraxas might have had, or maybe _his_ grandfather. I supposed they were warm, but not exactly attractive, so I hurried to pull them off as well. He stood still to let me work, one hand touching my hair and the line of my jaw as I knelt down to tug the last of his clothing away, watching Harry with a kind of awe. His prick rose as I watched it, and though I hadn't yet undressed myself, I paused to take it into my mouth. Lupin grunted and his hand tightened in my hair.

"Not yet." He stepped away when I released him. The light played on his skin, and I heard Harry gasp at the sight of the network of scars that disfigured it. Lupin's arms twitched, as if he wanted to move to cover himself, not his prick but his scars, but he didn't, only said quietly, "I don't want you boys to do anything that isn't your own choice."

Harry fumbled awkwardly, trying to reach the ribbons, before saying, " _Exsolvo_ ," in exasperation. The knots obediently untied themselves from his wrists and ankles and he sat up, ignoring the ribbon still wrapped around his cock. "Remus. I'm of age, more than that. So's Draco. We talked this over, the two of us, and we want to do it. I know you're..."

"Old enough to be your father," Lupin interrupted.

"Yes," Harry acknowledged. "That doesn't matter to me."

"Or to me," I said when Lupin looked at me. "Honestly." I started to take off my clothes. "Harry... show him that picture. You know the one." I could just see the page when he opened the book and laid it on the bed.

The man in the engraving sat half-upright on a wide couch with one boy straddling each knee, leaning over to kiss his throat. He stroked their arses teasingly and looked out from the page with a licentious smile, then nudged them to turn. The fairer youth promptly began to fist his own prick, showing off, while the darker one slid down the man's leg and started to nuzzle at his groin, frotting against the couch as he did so.

"Resemble anyone you know?" I tossed the last of my clothing aside and knelt up on the bed, deliberately echoing the position of the first boy and wrapping my hand around my cock. "I've been watching them for weeks."

"Have you." It wasn't quite a question. Lupin looked from me to Harry, back at the book, then up at us again. "And you?"

"Not nearly so long. Draco didn't show me the book until a few days ago." Harry leaned on one elbow and reached to untie the remaining piece of ribbon.

"I see." Lupin touched the page with gentle fingers, then closed the book and set it aside. He took Harry's glasses off and put them on top. Crawling onto the bed between us, he said, "I'd be a fool not to take this opportunity when offered. I've been foolish plenty of times in the past, mind you, but I'd prefer to regret the things I've done than the things I've let slip by."

Harry scooted over and started to kiss him. Lupin sighed and shifted and reached a hand towards me, running it over my thigh and then tugging, clearly urging me to come nearer. I lay down and pressed myself against him, the heat of his body – how could he be so warm? – and he embraced me with one arm, holding Harry with the other as they kissed. Turning my head, I used my tongue to trace the scars across Lupin's chest. One large one led me to the nest of brown hair under his arm; he made a noise when I nudged there and let go of me, lifting his arm so that I could reach that hot damp furry hollow. The scent was intense, and as I savored it, smelling and tasting, I realized that I had been rutting against Lupin without noticing what I was doing. Harry evidently had, though, for his hand brushed unexpectedly over my hip and then slipped between my body and Lupin's to stroke my prick.

I raised my head and glanced over at Harry. He'd moved from kissing Lupin's lips to his chest, and released his grip on me as he leaned further over to give me a kiss as well. Lupin watched us, stroking Harry's back and arse, his other hand still raised, encouraging me to return to what I'd been doing. I could taste him on Harry's tongue, and instead of going back, I wriggled upward so that I could try kissing him too.

The hair on his upper lip felt odd against mine, but his lips were softer than I'd imagined, his tongue more agile. I groaned when he nipped at my mouth, not hard enough to break the skin, just enough to show that he was not unused to mastery.

From when we began until now none of us had spoken. Harry was the one to break the silence, asking, "Which of us do you want, Remus?"

I pulled away, sitting up as Lupin leaned back against the headboard to gaze at us both, his expression considering.

"Must I choose?"

Harry made a peculiar gurgling sound, not exactly a laugh. "I don't think there's time for you to have us both. Dinner's at six and everyone knows you're coming tonight."

"Oh, I'm coming tonight," Lupin said meaningly, and Harry flushed. "The moon's waxing. You may not know what that means for someone in my condition. But since you were kind enough to invite me here and offer yourselves, I'll ask you each what _you_ would like. Top? Bottom?"

Harry and I looked at each other. He'd been the one to fuck me, the first time, but we'd gone the other way about as well, and as far as I knew he'd enjoyed that too.

"Bottom," I said, just as Harry replied, "Top."

"Excellent." Lupin smiled. "Perfect. I believe all of our wishes can be accommodated, then."

It hadn't occurred to me that Lupin would want to bottom, perhaps because the older man in the book never did. I had no objections whatsoever to his plan, however, and gladly rolled over onto my stomach, legs drawn up and knees well apart. Lupin seemed resigned to having to use a lubricating spell – "Though a good potion-maker can produce something far better," he told us – and quite soon I felt the head of his prick breaching my entrance.

He gave me time to become accustomed to his size, thicker than Harry although no longer, pushing inward only slowly.

"I'm going to stay like this," he told me, "while Harry does the same to me." His breath was warm against my neck, and I nodded. "Lift up just a fraction."

When I did so he reached underneath me and rubbed his thumb gently over the leaking head of my prick before he began a firmer stroke along the shaft, holding himself still inside me. I could feel a slight pressure as Harry entered him, and then when Harry began to thrust Lupin let those movements set the pace of his own.

It was a peculiar but satisfying sensation; Lupin was the one actually fucking me, but in a way Harry was doing so too. Lupin's lips were hot against the skin of my back, his fingers tugged delightfully at my prick, and – "Oh, yes, _there_ ," I gasped as he shifted his angle slightly. Harry groaned, a groan that I knew meant he had reached a plateau where he could thrust for some time before coming, if he wanted to. Lupin was panting now, still letting Harry determine the rhythm of it, but thrusting deeper into me until I could feel his balls slapping me with every stroke.

My eyes were closed but I could picture what the three of us looked like, each movement one of us made echoed by the bodies of the other two, and somehow the idea sent my arousal spiraling upward, I didn't want it to end but I couldn't help it, and I started to babble "yes" and "now" and "please" incoherently. Lupin's hand on me slowed but I whimpered and moved my hips, thrusting my cock through his fingers, and came in a rush of wetness that felt sticky between my stomach and the bedcover, my arse clenching around Lupin's prick. He murmured my name, and then Harry's, still moving; I was ready now for them both to finish, but it was my own fault for not having been able to hold back, so I bit my lip and waited it out, listening to the strangled grunt of Harry's orgasm and the full-throated growl that Lupin made as he gave one last hard thrust and then quivered against me.

Pressed into the mattress by two bodies, I tried to move and couldn't. Thankfully Harry realized how heavy the two of them together must be and said, "Sorry, Draco, just a second." I could hear the squelching slide as he pulled away from Lupin, and then the pressure lightened and I saw his face next to mine, looking odd as always without his glasses. He prodded Lupin. "C'mon, Remus, give Draco a chance to breathe."

"Mm. Yes, sorry," and as he withdrew I felt the moisture of his semen trickling down between my legs. Only for a moment; " _Tergeo_ ," he said, and the dampness was gone. I regretted it, a little, although it had to be done.

I rolled over and looked at them. They both had the same expression of satiety that I was fairly sure was on my face too, but nevertheless I laughed.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Only that if we go down to dinner looking like this, it's going to be obvious that there's been something going on," I snickered, and twisted in a stretch to ease my cramped back.

"There has been," he said, shrugging.

"Well, personally I don't want to have to explain anything to Molly," Lupin said. "You know how she is, Harry."

"Ah. True." Harry bit his lip. "Maybe you should go down first, Remus. Draco and I can wait a little while." He looked over at me. "Would you mind terribly if anyone guessed that the two of us have been shagging?"

"You get to be the one to explain it to your friends, that's all," I said. "I'm not interested in having all those Weasleys, plus Granger, yelling at me as if it were all my idea."

"Fair enough."

Lupin stood up and started to put on his underclothes. A shame, really. Despite the scars he had quite a nice body. But I supposed it would be a little chilly to wear nothing under those robes.

Harry said, "Remus?"

Lupin paused as he was buttoning his robe. "What?"

"You... you did enjoy that?"

"Of course." Lupin came back to the bed. "I'm flattered that you thought of me this way."

"Would you like to do it again sometime?" I blurted out the words before I could stop to consider them.

A smile spread across his face. "Oh, yes." He bent over and brushed my lips, then Harry's, then finished dressing quickly and left.

"I suppose Remus knows Occlumency," Harry murmured. "Otherwise Voldemort might realize that he's joined with the werewolves just to spy."

"Doubtless," I agreed. "I think you should ask him."

"Mm." He reached over and touched my face. "Did you really mean it when you said you wanted to do this again?"

"Yes." I sucked at his fingertip. "With you, with him, with both of you together. We're fighting a war, Harry. I'm going to enjoy life while I can."

He smiled. "So am I."

I said I had reasons to find Harry and try to teach him Occlumency at Snape's behest. Maybe not all of those reasons were disinterested. It no longer seemed to matter, if it ever had.  


**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Shakespeare, _Hamlet_ , act iii scene 4. Written for siren_mage for the 2007 hpvalensmut exchange.


End file.
